


The Shining

by skiggss



Series: dreamnotfound oneshots [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Songfic, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiggss/pseuds/skiggss
Summary: He should feel happy, really, that his best friends are happily commemorating the newest milestone Dream hit. But he doesn’t. He can’t help it.His heart stings as he stares blankly at nothing. He wants to be with them, experiencing their hugs, experiencing their laughs. He wants to hold Dream so hard that it becomes suffocating for the two of them. He wants, he wants, he wants.Exhaling heavily, he turns off his PC and gets ready to go to sleep.Or, George is in love with Dream. Based off the song The Shining by The Neighbourhood.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dreamnotfound oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144127
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	The Shining

**Author's Note:**

> [The Shining by The Neighbourhood](https://youtu.be/1GG0YSzGmd4)
> 
> Enjoy :)

_I’ve been hiding_

_You’ve been shining_

_Like diamonds blinding_

George has always thought of Dream to be something extraterrestrial; something out of this world.

He’s interesting to George. He’s obnoxiously loud most of the time, shining through any Discord call he joins. He has a unique— _and contagious_ —laugh that, sometimes, George wonders if he’s okay from wheezing too hard. His voice is like warm honey, easing into George’s eardrums, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach, and immediately washing any worries away. 

At first, George had fallen in love with all the little things. Like when Dream would lower his voice just to call out George’s name when they would play around on Minecraft, or even when the call had gone silent. Or the time that Dream accidentally snorted when laughing. 

Dream is expressive with his love. He’s constantly drowning his friends in _‘I love you’s.’_ He gives gifts, both big and small. Sometimes gifts are in the form of a thousand dollar donation during a stream, or simply dropping a one hundred gifted. George’s favorite gifts from Dream are the physical ones. Small knick knacks that he sends from places in Florida, a black Dream hoodie two sizes too big. 

Dream also over shares. He shamelessly tells the story of how he pissed the bed while his girlfriend was still sleeping. He shamelessly tells the story of how the three of them watched Belle Delphine porn together on Christmas. 

George is quite the opposite. He’s more reserved. He never verbally says he loves his friends, but they all know he does. It’s just something he doesn’t do. He appreciates his friends for never pushing him to say it.

_You’ve been proving_

_You’re super-human_

_I’m still moon-shooting_

George watches his screen with such intensity that it _hurts._ The Social Blade rises, rises, rises..!

“Yes!” George exclaims in pure joy, watching Dream’s subscriber count turn from 17,999,997 to 18,000,000. He’s so proud of his best friend, who continues to amaze him. George’s stomach bursts with butterflies that spread to his chest, his smile so big that his cheeks cramp. Dream is constantly succeeding.

His recent song release getting over ten million streams, his SMP roleplay popping off and intriguing all of the viewers, and now him hitting eighteen million a little over a week after hitting seventeen million. 

George sits back. His eyes bore into his monitor where Discord is open.

He’s met with silence. 

His chest aches. 

He knows Sapnap and Dream are celebrating together, probably laughing and hugging at how successful Dream is. At how great he’s doing. 

A sigh involuntarily leaves his lips as he runs his hands down his face. He leans forward and clicks onto his and Dream’s DM’s. He’s hesitant to send a message.

_Hey, congrats on 18 mil! :]_

He winces to himself and presses enter on his keyboard. His eyes flicker up to Dream’s icon, specifically the circle that signifies he’s offline. 

He should feel happy, really, that his best friends are happily commemorating the newest milestone Dream hit. But he doesn’t. He can’t help it.

His heart stings as he stares blankly at nothing. He wants to be with them, experiencing their hugs, experiencing their laughs. He wants to hold Dream so hard that it becomes suffocating for the two of them. He wants, he wants, he wants. 

Exhaling heavily, he turns off his PC and gets ready to go to sleep.

_The way that you glow_

_Everybody knows_

How can someone be so energetic at the ripe hour of five in the morning? 

It’s ten in the morning for George. He sits in a Discord call with Quackity, Karl, Dream, and Sapnap. Sapnap is silent, having muted and deafened the call.

“Quackity!” Dream screams, and George thinks about how he hasn’t been evicted yet. “Stop- stop sending me shit like that!”

Quackity lets out a loud laugh, the sound of him smacking his desk going through his mic. George chuckles to himself as the pair erupt into a fit of wheezes and laughter. Even when he’s not included in the joke, they still manage to make George laugh. 

“Oh, Dream!” Quackity coos between his fits of giggles, “Look, look, check Discord!”

Dream renders speechless, his words incoherent as he guffaws. George cringes at how Dream’s mic peaks. 

“I just think,” Karl begins, breaking out into a yawn, “you two nimrod Novembers, in the _middle of February_ ,” he exaggerates, “need to shut the honk up. This sleepover is too loud.”

“Vouch,” George murmurs sleepily, though it goes unheard as another deafening wheeze. Somehow it’s comforting to the brunet. 

It becomes too much after twenty more minutes of obnoxiously loud laughter rings through George’s Airpods. The warmth he felt in his chest turns to anxiety. His heartbeat quickens at the loud banging, loud laughing. 

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before leaving the call without a word. He loves them, he does, he just can’t handle it at the moment. 

His hands shake, his breathing is quick and labored. He pulls his covers over his face, shielding his eyes from the natural light seeping in between his curtains. Tears build up in his eyes. His head is pounding at the same pace of his heartbeat. It’s the only thing he can hear, the only thing he can feel.

He’s brought back to reality, the warmth of his bed, the contradicting coolness of his room, when his phone rings. He presses the palms of his hands to his eyes and lets it ring out for a minute. Finally, he looks at who is calling him.

_You’ve got a heart of gold_

_And mine is always broken_

“Dream,” George whispers, voice full of more emotion than he’d like to admit. He blinks away the tears, focusing on Dream’s voice instead. 

“George?” His voice is soft and cautious. George sighs hearing his name fall from Dream’s lips. He feels his heart flutter in his chest. “Are you okay? You left without really saying anything.”

“Um,” George takes his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly. He doesn’t know if he can answer honestly.

Dream’s a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and George isn’t. Dream is cheerful. He’s the sun blazing in the sky after heavy rainfall, a beautiful rainbow accompanying it (George supposes Sapnap is the rainbow). He’s the twenty dollar bill that George finds in the pocket of his pants when doing laundry. He’s the extra chicken nugget George sometimes gets when he orders a ten piece from McDonald’s. 

George, in reality, is dull. He’s nothing short of tedious, having the same uneventful, routine days locked in his room. He’s lonely most of the time, despite having two wonderful pets and his own mother living with him. That’s just his life though.

Dream has a heart of gold, George doesn’t.

_So I’ll just paint it chrome_

_So you’re not alone_

He chooses to lie. 

“I’m okay.”

He chooses to continue and hide. 

“George…” Dream drawls, voice lowering. It’s clear he doesn’t believe George. George doesn’t blame him.

“I promise.”

_I’ve been trying_

_Too hard_

_Climbing to get where you are_

He wants to tell Dream everything. He wants to. He _really_ wants to. 

He wants to tell Dream how miserable he feels. How he has had undying love for his own best friend, _“Dream, I’m in love with you.”_

George wants to be able to reach out and run his fingers through Dream’s hair. He knows it’d be soft. He aches to trace his finger over Dream’s bottom lip, his jawline, the bridge of his nose, his hairline. Even if he’s seen none of it, he _aches._

He tries and tries to drop hints. He flirts, ignoring the pang of hurt in his heart when Dream brushes over it with another lighthearted joke. He confides in Dream, hoping Dream will see just how important this is to him, and Dream knows he doesn’t do that with anyone else.

He tries every day to be as energetic and carefree as Dream, but today is one of the days where he can’t. 

_Wearing me out, comparing myself_

_Drowning in doubt, while you’re up in the stars_

_Staring me down, but you’re so down to Mars_

Out of all things he expected to be said today, _this_ is not what it was.

“I have a girlfriend, two months today,” Dream says nonchalantly, catching the attention of everyone in the Discord call, especially George.

George feels his heart plummet to his stomach. His mouth hangs open in an attempt to say something. Nothing comes out.

“Congrats, dude,” Quackity says sincerely. “What’s her name?”

George doesn’t want to know her name. He wants the day to be over, he wants to leave the call, he wants to crawl into his bed and just be _miserable._

Could that have been George? Instead of the word _‘girlfriend’_ coming out of Dream’s mouth, could it have been _‘boyfriend?’_

George has to live with the knowledge that someone gets to hold Dream. That someone gets to kiss him. That someone gets to _love_ him. 

“You don’t need to know her name,” Dream scoffs jokingly, a laugh following his words.

“Sheesh,” Sapnap chuckles, “ _I_ know her name.”

_Good for you,_ George thinks sourly. He can feel bile rise in his throat.

“‘Grats,” Karl pipes up, “want a sticker?”

“Yes, please,” Sapnap’s grin can be heard in his voice. 

Quackity huffs a laugh, “Dream doesn’t want to tell us her name because she goes to another school.”

Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity all erupt in boisterous laughter. George curses under his breath as he lowers his headphone volume. He glances at the time once he feels an unwelcoming feeling creep up his spine, spreading into his chest. He can feel his heart rate increasing and his breathing become heavy. 

“I’m gonna go,” George forces out, trying to quiet his gasps, “it’s late here.”

“Georgie, don’t go! I love you,” Dream whines, and for once George thinks he needs to shut up. 

_Don’t call me that,_ George bites his lip so hard he draws blood, _and don’t say that to me._

His hands shake as he hovers his cursor over the red button to leave the call. He clicks, hearing the laughter that had begun to subside and turn into _‘goodbye’s’_ come to an end. He stays still, eyes darting from one trembling hand to the other. 

George feels his phone vibrate beside him on the desk.

_The way that you glow_

_Everybody knows, yeah_

He checks the name.

_Dream :)_

He answers.

_You’ve got a heart of gold_

_And mine is always broken_

“Did I do something wrong?” Dream asks, worry evident in his tone. George exhales, trying desperately not to cry while on call. 

_So I’ll just paint it chrome_

_Yeah, I’ll just paint it chrome_

_So you’re not alone_

“No, no, you’re alright,” George says, not even surprised at how his voice doesn’t waver or crack. He’s doing this for Dream. He’s doing this to keep up with Dream’s heart of gold. He wants to shine like Dream. He wants to shine _with_ Dream.

And chrome seems like the closest thing to gold.

George forces a weak smile, “I’m just tired.”

_I just wanna shine with you, baby_

_I just wanna shine with you, baby_

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/skiggswastaken)


End file.
